


The Trail of Shadows Past

by sheryl_sems



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Angst, Bellarke, Crime, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Reluctant Partners to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-11-28 21:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18213923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheryl_sems/pseuds/sheryl_sems
Summary: When Wells Jaha is murdered, Clarke Griffin pushes away her grief with only one goal: to catch his killer. But despite being one of the best officers in the Ark Police Department, she is removed from the case with no justifiable explanation. Determined to do whatever it takes to find the murderer, she goes against the law, teaming up with unlikely allies and her reluctant precinct partner, and soon uncovers far more than she bargained for: dirty cops, corrupt politicians, felonious CEOs and eerie similarities to a case from six years ago: the death of Jake Griffin.





	1. Wells Jaha

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for choosing to check my new story out, I'm very excited for it and have already finished about 13 chapters so the first dozen or so chapters should be posted pretty quickly after each other. Please do let me know what you think, good or bad, in comments or hit kudos/bookmarks if you think it's worthy so far! All the encouragement means the world. Much love! x

Clarke Griffin grabs her bag, pushes out of her driver seat and slams the door shut, stumbling into a run. Her phone buzzes as she slides to a stop outside the elevators in the parking lot and glances down to see "Mum" flashing across the screen. She slides the screen down to let it pass through to voice mail and enters the lift, smiling at the man who she knows works in forensics two floors below her.  
  
  
"Late today, Miss Griffin?"  
  
  
"Car broke down." She says, shaking her head. "Second time this month."  
  
  
"Lucy-" His daughter, she remembers, “ Had the same problem two months ago, had to get a replacement, the poor thing."  
  
  
"Hopefully it won't come to that." She says, making a show of crossing her index and middle finger. He chuckles and waves goodbye as he alights at his floor. Clarke taps her foot impatiently as the elevator climbs the two floors and as she's leaving the metal box, her phone buzzes again. She growls and reaches into her pocket to see that her mother is calling again but she's late so she silences it, walking quickly through the glass doors and into the office area. Her eyebrows furrow together at the sight of the group of people huddled around Nathan Miller's table. They all look up as she approaches them and she takes in the various faces. There's Miller sitting at the table. Bellamy Blake, her other partner, leaning forward in his seat at the table next to his. And surprisingly, Octavia Blake and Monty Green stand there too. She works in Media control and he works with forensics- others go to them, they rarely come up here.  
  
  
"Morning, what's the crowd for?" Clarke asks, dropping her bag onto her desk across Miller's. She looks up to see them all watching her carefully and she smiles, amused. "What? Milk moustache?" No one cracks a smile. "Is this because I'm late? Cut me some slack! It's only the second time in five months. No one ever reacts this way when Blake's late." She glares at Bellamy but for once, he isn't glaring back and suddenly she's a little less amused and a little more worried. "What's going on?"  
  
  
"Clarke- did your mum call you today?" Octavia asks and suddenly Clarke fully takes in how shaken Octavia and Monty. Miller and Bellamy are completely stone-faced.  
  
  
"Yeah, but I was in a hurry and didn't answer. What is going on? And what are you both doing here? Media control only interferes when someone important dies- should I be worried that my favourite celebrity is our new case?" Octavia's swallows hard and now Clarke's smile drops completely. "Octavia?"  
  
  
"I think you should sit down, Clarke," Monty says, stepping forward and placing his arm on her shoulder.  
  
  
"Why?" She asks slowly, looking between the four of them. "Someone tell me what is happening."  
  
  
"Clarke, you should really-"  
  
  
"No," She snaps, moving her shoulder away from Monty's grasp. "What is going on?"  
  
  
"Clarke, a body was found at 7:00am this morning," Octavia says, stepping forward. It's currently 8:05. "Th-Thelonius Jaha was contacted half an hour ago." Clarke feels the breath rush out of her and tears are pooling in Octavia's eyes and she feels her chest tighten and her vision go black for a moment and her hands don't want to shake but they're already shaking and Octavia is holding onto her forearms and it can’t be true, and- "Clarke, I'm so sorry."  
  
  
"Who was it?" She knows the answer. She knows it but she doesn't want to believe it. She _can't._  
  
  
“Wells," Octavia whispers and Clarke feels like she’s suddenly forgotten how to breathe. She stands there, frozen, for a few moments before squeezing her eyes shut and breathing deeply in and out, four counts each, just like she was taught in therapy after her father's death. Her eyes open and she looks at Miller, who is staring worriedly at her, standing now.  
  
  
"What do we know?" She demands. "Has the crime scene been searched yet?" She feels their eyes on her, worried, panicked, and in Bellamy’s case, eyebrows raised. "Well?"  
  
  
"Clarke- we can't share case details with you," Miller answers hesitantly, walking towards her.  
  
  
"Excuse me?" She snaps.  
  
  
"You're not working the case with us. Kane's orders." He reaches out to touch her arm but she steps backwards away from him, anger flashing through her eyes.  
  
  
"Like _hell_ I'm not," She says before spinning around and walking towards the door labelled ‘Chief Inspector Marcus Kane'. She knocks sharply and pushes the door open without waiting for a response. The forty-seven year old dark-haired man is seated at his oak desk, files and papers spread across half his desk, a laptop open in front of him and the phone held between his ear and shoulder. He glances up.  
  
  
"I'll call you back in ten minutes, is that okay?" He asks, shifting to hold the receiver in his hand instead. He waits for the response before saying a quick thank you and ending the call. "Clarke." He nods. "I assume you heard the news… I'm very sorry for your loss."  
  
  
"I also heard that I'm not working the case," She says disbelievingly, coming to stand in front of the desk.  
  
  
"You're too close to it," He says softly.  
  
  
"I don't mix my professional and personal lives together, Kane, you know that." She says angrily, leaning forward and pressing her palms against the table.  
  
  
"I do. But this is Wells we're talking about."  
  
  
She slams her hands against the wood but Kane only blinks. "I know this is Wells we're talking about! This is my best friend- I've known him since we were babies! And he's been murdered! There's a reason I work in this job and it's to bring killers to justice! Whoever hurt Wells deserves that and I should be the one doing it."  
  
  
"Again- you are too close to the case, Clarke." He stands up. "I'm sorry, I can't let you join the team on this one."  
  
  
"I know Wells better than anybody else does and I am also one of your best detectives. For once, bringing my personal life into this might be beneficial. Don't put me to waste," She shakes her head pleadingly.  
  
  
"We won't. You will be thoroughly... asked questions."  
  
  
“Interrogated," She says with a humourless short laugh. "I'll be interrogated. Like the suspects. On the other side of the table." She shakes her head. "Don't do this, Kane. I can help you."  
  
  
"And I will repeat it as many times as you need me to- you are too close to this case. Vengeance is a very powerful thing, Clarke. It will sneak up on you before you even realise it's near. You can tell the team what you know, but they can't tell you what they know, and my decision is not changing."  
  
  
"Where's his body now?" She asks.  
  
  
He sighs. "Autopsy. The funeral will be postponed until we find out who did this and until the mayor is ready."  
  
  
"Whose in charge of the autopsy?" She asks. He stares at her in a way that makes her laugh almost maniacally. "Seriously? _I'm_ too close to the case to work on it and my mother isn't? Unbelievable."  
  
  
"It's different, Clarke. But I need to warn you now- you come close to this case and try to find out anything and I will have to take action. And quite frankly, right now I feel like that's exactly what you're going to do so I think I need to ask for your gun and badge." He holds out his hand but she crosses her arms across her chest and stares at him.  
  
  
"Are you kidding me right now?"  
  
  
Kane removes his hand and uses it to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Please don't be difficult, Clarke. I know he was your best friend and I know you're upset and want to solve this case- but seek solace in the fact that your partners, who are very capable officers, are in charge. There's nothing I can do to let you in. My hands are tied."  
  
  
"That's not true and we both know it. You're making a big mistake, Kane, and it won't take you long to realise it." With that, she turns around and leaves.  
  
  
***


	2. John Murphy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you're interested enough to read on! Here's chapter two, a bit longer with some more character work! Please do leave comments/kudos/bookmarks if you like it enough! Your support means the world to me xx

  
Clarke has refused to give herself time to grieve. It's been three days and she hasn't answered any phone calls from her mother or Thelonius, any messages from her friends and has barely set foot out of her house. She has a feeling that even her cat is tired of seeing her at home. She spends her time sitting at her coffee table, taking notes about anything that might connect to the case- Wells' enemies, Thelonius's enemies (he was bound to have many, being Arkadia's Mayor), people at his work she'd heard about, people she could talk to, the last time she'd heard from him (the night before his murder, she writes down with trembling fingers). But she hasn't cried yet. Because once she starts, she knows she won't be able to stop, which means she won't be able to work the case for Wells. Grieving has never done her good, she believes firmly.  
  
  
Her ears perk up when she hears voices in the corridor outside. She jumps to her feet and presses her ear against the door.  
  
  
"Sure we shouldn't?" It's Octavia.  
  
  
"She'll talk to us when she's ready," Miller's voice floats to her.  
  
  
She gives it a few seconds before opening the door and Bellamy, the last one entering Miller's flat across her's, stops and turns around. Miller and Octavia appear again at the door and Octavia runs up to give Clarke a hug, one she half-heartedly returns.  
  
  
"I'm glad you're safe," She says softly and Clarke nods.  
  
  
"Any news about Wells?" She asks, staring at Miller.  
  
  
He swallows hard. "Clarke- you know I can't-"  
  
  
"Yeah, you've repeated several times. And I get it. You have a job to do and secrets to keep," She says, stepping towards him until she's standing between Bellamy and Miller. "But this is me, Nate. I am your partner, your flatmate, your friend. You know you need me working the case with you. None of you know Wells like I do- and as much as I trust you with finding the person who did this, I know I can help you do better."  
  
  
"You can, but our hands are tied," Miller says softly. "I'm sorry-"  
  
  
"What if it were Harper? She's like your sister. You've taken care of each other for as long as your memory extends. Would you sit out and let others work the case? _Could_ you do that?" He remains silent. She looks at Bellamy. "Or Octavia." She turns to Octavia. "Or your brother." She looks between all of them. "If you imagine it, do I sound a little less crazy? Would you understand my desperation to do this? I can't sit aside and just do nothing! But there's only so much I can do with what I know."  
  
  
"Clarke, we're sorry."  
  
  
"Yeah, I've heard a lot of that in the past four days," She scoffs and turns back to walk towards her door, stopping only once she's inside. "I'm not going to stop trying. Even if it costs me my job- I'm not giving up." She closes the door behind her and takes a deep breath, trying to calm down as she hears Miller's door shut as well. She pushes her palms against her closed eyes and pushes away the lump in her throat and suddenly feels very alone.  
  
  
***  
  
  
It didn't make sense. Wells had been working for a company that supported the natural resources network in Arkadia. He did good work. He had been working on a project that had been spanning eight months now and his reports were due in the next week. He had told her all this. He never once mentioned that he felt like he was in danger or that his work was not going well. And more than all that, Wells Jaha was a good man. One of the best. And this wasn't just Clarke's bias. Ask anyone in Arkadia and they would have only good things to say about the twenty-eight year old man.  
  
  
His father, however-  
  
  
The doorbell rings and pulls her out of her thoughts about Thelonius Jaha and the many enemies he had attracted. She carefully places the wooden cover of her dining table back onto the large table surface where her notes had been taped to and places the table cloth back onto it. Making sure nothing is sticking out, she heads to the front door and peers through the eyehole. It's Miller and he holds up a box of muffins and takeaway drinks.  
  
  
She sighs and opens the door.  
  
  
"I come in peace. And am kind of hoping I won't leave in pieces." He offers a sheepish smile and she nods, holding the door open for him. "I got chocolate muffins and hot chocolate on the way back from work. I'm so glad the weekend is here tomorrow." He places the take-out items on the dining table and for a moment, Clarke holds her breath. Miller doesn't miss anything- even an inch rise in the table and he's going to know. But her notes are not extensive, barely one layer thick, and Miller doesn't say anything.  
  
  
"What have you been up to?" He asks, sitting down across her and passing her a cup of hot chocolate.  
  
  
"Not much, really. Trying to wrap my head around everything," Clarke replies, shrugging.  
  
  
"Have you been out much?" He asks, fiddling with his sleeve.  
  
  
"No, I don't really feel like meeting people and their pity," She says, leaning back in her seat.  
  
  
"Clarke, it isn't pity. It's worry. People are worried about you. And the press doesn’t know anything about you not working the case."  
  
  
"Do you not live in Arkadia, Nate? You know as well as I do that the gossip train here travels faster than our actual damn trains," She scoffs. "And it's not a lie that people aren't my biggest fans. They'd snicker in my face if they learnt that my best friend was dead and that I can’t help find out who did it. They’d use it as an opportunity to rehash the fact that they don’t think I belong in the precinct."  
  
  
"Things are different now. They respect you. They know you got on the team because you deserved it-"  
  
  
"Yet people like to believe that my money and family connections are the only things that drive me through my job."  
  
  
"Not anymore."  
  
  
"You say that, yet the man who sits next to us in our office likes throwing that in my face every opportunity he gets."  
  
  
Miller sighs. "Bellamy likes being an asshole to you, he's not really someone you should be using as an example. And you'd be surprised at how much respect he's got for you." Clarke shrugs. "Look, Clarke, I know you're angry at us. That's why you're not leaving the house."  
  
  
"I am also not leaving the house because every street I walk on, every building I look at reminds me of my dead best friend.” There’s a lump in her throat and her eyes sting.  
  
  
Miller reaches out to hold her hand. "I know. But I'm looking at you right now and I can tell you that you haven't let yourself grieve. Because you are angry- at us, at the world, at yourself. You need to let yourself grieve or it is going to eat you alive. And you have every right to be angry- just don't let it consume you. Wells wouldn't have wanted that."  
  
  
"A warrior doesn't grieve till the war's over. Kane taught us that the last time one of our officers died on the job and we needed to keep going."  
  
  
Miller squeezes her hand. "This isn't a war, Clarke."  
  
  
"Yes it is, dammit!" She snaps, snatching her hand out of Miller's. "I'm tired of explaining this to you. Damn right I'm angry at all of you. I'm furious. This is as much my fight, if not more, than it is yours. He is- _was_ a good man that didn't deserve this- fine! But you didn't know him like I did. You knew him since high school, sure, but I knew him since we were babies. I knew him as a boy and then a man that wasn't just good- but kind, and caring, and loved, and he was there for me when nobody else was. And now, when he's gone, nobody is letting me fight for him the way he used to fight for me. So damn right I'm angry. Tell me that I shouldn't be.” Her vision is blurring and she blinks rapidly to clear the tears from her eyes.  
  
  
"I won't because you should be. Clarke, I love you. We all do. But our hands are tied in this one. The best way we can help you is by working this case for you- finding who did this and bringing your best friend justice."  
  
  
"I wish that was enough, Nate. I really do," She says, standing up. "Anyway, it's- it's late so I should probably head to bed."  
  
  
"Yeah, okay." Miller stands up. She turns around to throw away their cups and when she turns back around, he's pulling his messenger bag across his chest. He steps forward to squeeze her shoulder. "If you need anything- I'm here for you. You know that's never going to change no matter how angry you are at me." She swallows hard and nods. He smiles at her before leaving. Only once he's out the door and Clarke is removing the table cloth off the dining table does she realise there's a brown file lying on the seat next to where Miller was. She reaches out and picks it up. Flips it open. Tears pool at her eyes and she releases a ragged, disbelieving breath, smiling slightly.  
  
  
"God bless you, Nate Miller," She whispers, running her fingers over the label of the file- 'Case: Wells Jaha'. A yellow note is stuck on the first page of the file that reads 'Don't do anything stupid. 6am, under my door.'  
  
  
***  
  
  
'He told you not to do anything stupid,' Clarke repeats to herself as she wheels her bicycle behind a bush near the apartment building. She zips up her dark blue jacket, pulls up the hood and enters the building with the key Wells had given her when he moved into this flat two years ago. She climbs to the third floor quietly, her left hand gripping a switched off torch light and her right holding her gun. Just in case.  
  
  
From the file Miller gave her, Clarke knew six main things:  


  1. Wells was killed by a stab wound to the jugular.
  2. His body was found on the sofa with no traces of struggle.
  3. The door was left slightly ajar and his neighbour entered the next morning to see why.
  4. The pictures were too stomach-wrenching for Clarke to study and she flipped through them quickly.
  5. John Murphy was the last person to see him alive that night and he had been taken in for interrogation but released on account of lack of evidence.
  6. The person who had signed for Clarke to be removed from the case was not Marcus Kane.



  
  
She stops in front of apartment number 47. The same door she had knocked on countless times over the past two years. Wells had always been on the other side, eyes and mouth smiling, arms full of love. He'd make her a cup of peppermint tea, both their favourite type, and they'd sit on the sofa together and chat about their day before marathoning a TV show.  
  
  
She shakes her head and releases a slow breath before slipping her spare key into the lock and pushing the door open. She closes the door behind her softly and is about to switch her torch light on when she hears a sound from her left. A table shifting, a small intake of breath. Her torch and gun are positioned immediately in front of her, her right clicking the safety off and the left hitting the torch button, straight onto a figure in a black hood, a large statue poised to attack in his gloved hands. He blinks into the light before focusing on her and her eyes widen, recognising the figure.  
  
  
"Murphy?!"  
  
  
"Griffin?"  
  
  
"Put the damn statue down," She says.  
  
  
"Put the damn gun down!" He retorts. She grits her teeth and lowers her firearm slowly. He places the statue behind him onto the coffee table.  
  
  
  
"I can explain." He starts, raising his hands in the air.  
  
  
"Yeah, and you sure as hell will." She says, narrowing her eyes at him. She opens her mouth to tell him to start talking when they hear a key slipping into the doorknob behind them. She swears silently and rushes past Murphy to the window behind him. "Come on," She ushers him through the window and onto the fire escape and climbs out after him, shutting the window. They run down the metal stairway and hit the ground softly just as the lights go on above them. His bike is right under the stairway and he moves to grab it just as she reaches out and snatches his sleeve.  
  
  
"I can arrest you right now for trespassing on a crime scene. But I'm not going to because I want to hear you before they do. You try to split away from me and I will send you straight back to the precinct, understood?" He nods and wheels his bike towards where she's retrieving her own bike from. She signals for him to follow her and using an alley that isn't visible from Wells' lit up windows, they cycle away towards her apartment.  
  
  
***  
  
  
“Talk," Clarke says, pacing in front of the seat John Murphy's taken on her armchair.  
  
  
"I'm a suspect in this investigation."  
  
  
"I know- your name was on the file. They interrogated you three days ago, didn't have anything to keep you for more than the standard 24 hours and had to let you go."  
  
  
"Yeah," He's staring at her strangely, probably wondering why she wasn't at the precinct herself, and more than that- why she had been sneaking around the crime scene. But he kept talking. "I was the last one to see Jaha alive. We were working on a project together for Ark Naturals and we ended up sitting together on the flight back from London. After we landed, we took a cab together and I got off at my flat, he took the taxi to his. A day later, cops are showing up at my doorstep and they tell me the guy's dead and Blake and Miller are interrogating me for the next 24 hours."  
  
  
"What were you doing in his flat then? A closed off crime scene? What was so important for you to risk going back there?" She asked.  
  
  
Murphy purses his lips before sighing and answering- "In the taxi home, he got a damn nose bleed. He was bleeding all over his fucking suit so I lent him a handkerchief I had. He took it back to his flat with him. If the cops found a piece of cloth with "JM" stitched onto one corner and Jaha's blood all over it, they'd claim that's enough to arrest me and fuck, it probably is."  
  
  
"Especially considering your history," Clarke says, her mind flashing to the several fights Murphy and Wells had gotten into in University, the former threatening the latter because his father had become mayor and was changing the fees system and charging less well-off students the same as the richer students. "I'm sure enough students would be willing to testify on the fact that you verbally threatened to kill Wells a few times."  
  
  
"You can see why I'm a little desperate to remove any signs that I was around him after the flight. I've done a lot of shit when I was younger, Clarke, but I didn't do this, I swear. Wells was a good person, even I can admit that. I didn't do this but all signs show that I could’ve," He says, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his thighs and staring up to look at her.  
  
  
"Look, I don't know who to believe right now but I don't have a lot of people on my side with this case."  
  
  
"You don't have jurisdiction?"  
  
  
"None. Where are you staying right now?"  
  
  
"My flat got turned upside down by the cops but there I guess."  
  
  
"Look, Murphy, we both want to solve this case, right?" He shrugs. "You so that you can get cleared, me because this is my best friend." He nods this time. "We have no permission to do it, but we both know- _knew_ Wells and you were supposedly the last person to him alive."  
  
  
"What are you suggesting, Griffin?"  
  
  
"If we work together- we can do this. Stay here and I'll make sure the people who actually did this don't get to you and in return, I get to keep an eye on you just in case you _are_ involved with the murder. And if you aren't, you still tell me and only me everything you know."  
  
  
"I'm not and I've already told you everything I know."  
  
  
"I don't believe that's true. I think between us, we can learn more."  
  
  
"Why not just ask your mates to trust you and tell them what I've told you?"  
  
  
"Because something about the network of people in charge of this case, other than my friends, doesn't sit right with me. They're sworn to report back to their seniors and I’m not risking that."  
  
  
"What's making me stay? I could just go back home and ignore everything and go on with my life. Why should I help you?"  
  
  
"Because I could just speed dial Miller and tell him you were breaking into Wells' flat and that I caught you sneaking out of the fire exit. He’ll choose to ignore the fact that I was at the crime scene myself, we both know that. And besides, someone needs to go get that handkerchief and if I'm found at the crime scene, I'll loose my job but if you're found, you'll be arrested and put away for life."  
  
  
Murphy sighs. "Fine. You got yourself a deal."  
  
  
***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: I've decided to name the chapters according to a focus character of the chapter aka someone who aids/hinders Clarke on her mission like an ally or a friend or a suspect or a criminal/ someone important to the case basically!


	3. Roma Vasquez

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for tuning back in/continuing to tune in! If you liked it, let me know through kudos/bookmarks and comments, even if they're comments with some criticism!! Enjoy xx
> 
> PS: I'm sure you're waiting for more Bellamy/Clarke interaction- it's coming, I promise!!

  
At 6am the next morning, Clarke slips Wells' file under Miller's door and returns to her place in front of her wooden dining table where new notes have been taped on. She's showered and making breakfast an hour later when Murphy walks in, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and scratching the back of his head.  
  
  
"Did you sleep at all?" He asks, dropping into the seat across her.   
  
  
"I haven't slept properly in days- another won't make a difference," She says, passing him a cup of tea.   
  
  
"Have any coffee?" He asks, yawning.  
  
  
"I don't drink coffee- but you're welcome to go buy your own if you have a problem with my tea," She almost snaps, feeling tired and irritable.  
  
  
He holds his hands up in surrender. "Tea is just fine. Don't bite my head off because of your sleeping habits, Griffin." She sighs and takes a sip of her own tea before placing it on the counter and leaning over the notes.  
  
  
"I can only imagine that his murder had something to do with Ark Nat," She says. "Are you sure nothing seemed weird about your project?"   
  
  
"Nothing that I can think of. It seemed pretty clean."   
  
  
"Who else was on the project with you?"  
  
  
"Woman called Roma Vasquez. She was working on the same project but only from Arkadia."  
  
  
"Roma Vasquez," Clarke mumbles. "I've seen that name before." She flips through the pages that she had photocopied of Miller's files and stops on a page about the discovery of his body. "She's the neighbour who found Wells the next morning. She lives across his flat in number 46."  
  
  
"She seems alright," Murphy says, leaning forward to try to read the file but Clarke glares at him and moves it away before sticking on a post-it with Vasquez's name on it in the _Suspects_ column of their board. "But it's a weird coincidence to have been working on the same project and finding the body of her partner."  
  
  
"We don't have much else to go on unfortunately." She looks at the list- "so far there's you-" Murphy rolls his eyes, "-Roma, and the taxi driver. Taxi driver seems clear but might as well leave him on there. Anyone else at Ark Nat who seemed particularly against Wells?"  
  
  
Murphy thinks for a few moments, leaning back in his seat. "There was Dax Phillips. Scary even by my standards. He used to look at Jaha with a lot of hate. But he works in maintenance and I can't see him connected to Ark Nat projects at all, especially not one as high up as ours." Clarke sticks Dax's name onto the list anyway.  
  
  
Clarke drinks the rest of her tea in one go and puts the cup in the sink before placing the wooden cover back and table cloth back on.   
  
  
"What's the plan, boss?" Murphy asks, leaning forward to tip the chair onto the two front legs.   
  
  
"I'm going to head to Roma's in a bit after stopping by Raven's to get my car checked out. I think you should go home and pick up some more clothes and stuff. Make yourself seen in shops- do what you would normally do on a Sunday, unless that's sitting on your sofa in the dark and sulking."   
  
  
"You saw me do that _once_ in college, Griffin! You caught me on a bad day!" Murphy says through gritted teeth. She cracks half a smile before waving at him and heading to her room.   
  
  
She meets Raven at 9 and the Latina girl, long dark hair tied up and orange bomber jacket perpetually hanging from her frame, huffs at Clarke's car.   
  
  
"Third time in a month," She says, making a note of the vehicle on a sheet of paper taped to the garage wall.   
  
  
"I can't give up on her yet," Clarke sighs. “She was my dad’s and I want to fight as hard as I can for her.” Raven nods and leads Clarke to her office at the back and they sit down on the sofa together.  
  
  
"How're you holding up?" Raven asks, pursing her lips in worry.  
  
  
Clarke takes a deep breath. "I haven't honestly given myself a lot of time to think about."  
  
  
"You trying to work the case at home?" She asks and Clarke is surprised to see no pity or judgement in her eyes, which makes her nod.  
  
  
"You going to tell me off for it?"  
  
  
Raven scoffs. "On the contrary- I say go for it. I'm not saying it's healthy that you're putting off thinking about what happened, but if this is what you need to do then I'm hardly someone who is going to stop you. Just be careful. And if you need anything at all- I'm your girl."  
  
  
Clarke manages to smile more than she has in the past few days and leans forward to hug her friend. "Thanks, Rae."  
  
  
"Always."  
  
  
***   
  
  
The door of apartment 46 opens in front of her and she's standing face to face with a beautiful dark-haired pale-faced lady in a smart red blouse and black skirt.   
  
  
"Miss Roma Vasquez?" Clarke says. The lady nods. "My name is Clarke Griffin, I'm with Arkadia Police and I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's okay?"  
  
  
"I've already been questioned by the police," Roma replies, her eyebrows rising a bit suspiciously.  
  
  
"I know- but Wells was also my best friend and I would really like to do a few follow ups to make sure we've covered everything."   
  
  
"Go on then," Roma says, refusing to move away from the door and allowing Clarke inside.   
  
  
"You said you didn't see Wells the night he returned, did you hear him by any chance?" Clarke asks. Roma shakes her head.  
  
  
"I'm usually asleep by 10pm on weekdays."  
  
  
"You found the body at 7am the next morning. What made you check on him?"   
  
  
"I already answered this but- we're partners, we drive to office together sometimes. So when I saw that he wasn't answering the door and that it was unlocked and open, I entered to see why and found him on the... yeah," She trails off, swallowing hard.   
  
  
"What's the reaction been like in the office?"  
  
  
"People are shocked, not a lot of them know the circumstances but our team definitely does and news spreads quickly. They're doing a good job keeping it out of the papers somehow but it's probably going to be out soon. It's a big deal when the Mayor's son is murdered," Roma says and Clarke nods. Octavia and Jasper _were_ doing a good job keeping it out of the papers entirely. That was the good thing about a small town like Ark- media and press control could be handled efficiently with the right controls and pressure.   
  
  
"Your project was about natural resource trades and systems between different cities and expansion to other countries. Did Wells let on that anything was out of the ordinary?"   
  
  
"No, not at all." Clarke notices that Roma is twisting the ring around her thumb and fiddling with her sleeves. "Look- I've already been asked these questions and-"  
  
  
Before she can finish her sentence, two figures appear from around the corner and Clarke's eyes go wide for a moment as the two dark-haired heads look up and notice her. Clarke smiles tightly at them, her mind racing to find an explanation for her presence.   
  
  
"Clarke, what are you doing here?" Kane asks, stopping in front of them. He looks highly suspicious and Bellamy just looks intrigued and a little bit amused even.   
  
  
It's Roma who replies and Clarke holds her breath, expecting this to be her last day on the job. "Clarke's a friend and we were just talking about how we've been holding up since Wells was dear to both of us." Clarke releases her breath slowly and nods. Bellamy raises an eyebrow behind Kane while the older man just nods and turns left into Wells' apartment. Clarke had been there only five minutes ago and had a bloody handkerchief tucked into her coat pocket.   
  
  
"Follow up, huh?" Roma asks.   
  
  
"It's complicated and I just want to help my friend. I know you have no reason to trust me after this but- call me if you remember anything." She passes Roma a slip of paper with her personal contact number.   
  
  
"Why should I call you and not the precinct?" Roma asks, pocketing the paper.  
  
  
"Because you covered for me even though you didn't have to, even though you knew I was investigating something I clearly shouldn't be. That means something to me. Thank you, Miss Vasquez." She nods and when Roma nods back after a beat, Clarke leaves.   
  
  
***   
  
  
It comes as a surprise to Clarke when that evening at 8pm, Thelonius Jaha rings her doorbell. She ushers Murphy away to his room and opens the door, making sure no signs of her investigation are visible.   
  
  
"Clarke, it's good to see you," He says and she notices the way his face is drawn out and how he looks ten times older than he used to.   
  
  
"You too, Thelonius," Clarke nods. "Would you like to come inside?"   
  
  
"Unfortunately I am headed somewhere but I wanted to drop these off to you." He passes the cardboard box in his hands to her and she looks at him in question. "It's what the officers didn't think were crucial to the investigation. I know that I could have kept it but I think Wells would want _you_ to have his things." She swallows hard and feels the weight of the box triple in her arms. "I heard you're not working the case."  
  
  
"I'm not allowed to because of my relationship with Wells," She answers, clearing her throat when her words come out hoarse.   
  
  
"That's a truly a pity, Clarke. If anybody would be able to solve this case, it's you," He says, placing his hand on her arm.  
  
  
"I wish the precinct saw it that way too. But thank you," She nods. He squeezes her shoulder and drops his arm.   
  
  
"I hope to see you around, Clarke. Take care."   
  
  
"You too." She says and watches him leave before closing the door behind her. She ignores Murphy's questioning look and heads straight to her room. Her hands trembling, she places the box on her bed and sitting down beside it, she removes the lid. Tears rise in her eyes as she takes in the contents.   
  
  
There's a baseball cap, from when Wells played on the high school baseball team.   
  
  
There are two wii remotes and Clarke chokes back a sob at the sight of them, her mind pulling up memories of them sitting on his couch and playing Mario Kart for hours on Friday evenings, bottles of apple cider beside them. They both hated beer.   
  
  
Two rings. One belonged to his mother's father, which Thelonius had given him when he was old enough. He had never known his mother as she died when he was only a year old, but it was what he treasured most from her side of the family. The other ring was one that Clarke had given him for his eighteenth birthday- it was a bronze band with his star sign, Taurus, on a neatly cut square blue sodalite stone sitting on the top. She chokes back a sob as she lifts the ring out and slips it onto her thumb.   
  
  
Next is a photo with a group of eight people. There's Clarke and Wells at the centre, arms around each other's backs and grinning. Bellamy and Miller on either side of them, laughing with their heads thrown back. Octavia, Raven, Jasper and Monty are on the grass in front of them- Raven reaching behind her to hit Miller in the stomach, clearly the response to an awful joke; Octavia rolling her eyes with a small smile on her face; and Jasper and Monty pulling silly faces into the camera. Clarke's stomach clenches at the beautiful memory of that summer evening in Wells' backyard.   
  
  
There's another photo of Jake, his arms around Wells and Clarke on either side of him. Tears slip down her cheeks and onto the photograph and she reaches out to run her thumb across the photo. They were both gone.  
  
  
She places the photos onto the bed beside her and reaches into the box again. Her fingers close around a watch sitting above a jacket and her eyebrows furrow at the unfamiliar object. She wipes her face on her sleeve and takes the watch out.   
  
  
It wasn't Wells'.   
  
  
She flips the watch around and studies the back, looking for any sign of familiarity or any clues that could tell her who it belonged to. That's when she sees it, in small neat cursive script scratched onto the bottom right corner. And suddenly she sees red.   
  
  
She leaps out of bed, the watch gripped in her left hand and her right reaching out to grab the gun in her nightstand drawer. She moves downstairs, her teeth grit together, and sees Murphy lounging on the armchair. He notices her walking towards him and sits a little straighter and the expression on her face, and then jumps to his feet when she stops in front of him and points her gun at him.  
  
  
"Did you lie to me?" She yells, raising the watch.  
  
  
"That isn't mine," He replies calmly.  
  
  
"Don't you fucking lie to me again, Murphy!" She screams at him, "Emori's name is on the back so don't you fucking dare."  
  
  
"I don't know how you have it! It’s been-"   
  
  
"Enough!" She snaps. "What was your watch doing in Wells' flat? Choose your next words bloody carefully."   
  
  
He sighs, teeth gritting together and says, “Fine. It’s my watch and yes, it was in his flat but... I didn't kill Jaha!" He raises his hands, palms facing her in an attempt to calm her down.   
  
  
Before she can reply, the front door is pushed open and Clarke is left cursing herself for not locking the door behind her after Thelonius left. Her gun moves from Murphy to the intruder and when he enters, his gun is pointed at her too.   
  
  
"You better have a damn good reason for aiding and abetting a top suspect in a murder investigation," Bellamy growls.  
  
  
  
***


	4. Bellamy Blake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some Bellamy/Clarke interactions for you! It's quite a short chapter but it's progress! Hope you enjoy xx Leave feedback if you have a minute to ;D x

"You better have a damn good reason for aiding and abetting a top suspect in a murder investigation." Bellamy is staring at Clarke, eyes narrowed.  
  
  
"I do. Just put the gun down first and I'll explain," Clarke says, raising her own weapon up in surrender.   
  
  
Bellamy looks between Murphy and her before holstering his gun.   
  
  
"I was going to Miller's when I heard you yelling so I came to see if you needed help and then I heard Murphy," He says. "Explain."  
  
  
"I want him in cuffs first," Clarke nods towards Murphy.  
  
  
"Are you serious, Griffin?" Murphy asks, running a hand through his hair.  
  
  
“Yes," She says firmly and looks at Bellamy, who shrugs and goes over to handcuff the other man.   
  
  
"Now talk," Bellamy says. Clarke drops onto the sofa and Bellamy takes a seat in the armchair across from Murphy.  
  
  
"I went to investigate the crime scene on Friday night. I know!" She stops Bellamy from interrupting. "I didn't have permission but if you didn't think I'd go check it out, you haven't learnt a thing over the past four years of working with me. I bumped into Murphy there." Murphy emits a growl at this but she glares at him. "He needs to hear the whole thing or we're both going to get arrested." She goes on to explain everything that had happened, only leaving out Miller's involvement. Murphy pitches in about his part and includes Roma and Dax, and their possible involvement.   
  
  
"Why didn't you just come with all this to Miller or me or Kane?" Bellamy asks.  
  
  
"Because you'd have to report to Kane, and Kane would have to report to Pike."  
  
  
"Wait, what? Pike?" Bellamy looks genuinely confused at this point.  
  
  
"Have you had to send over your files to him? Had to meet him at any point?" She asks.  
  
  
"No, not once. He doesn't need to be in charge of this case- Kane is. It's an Arkadia case, why would the state's main chief inspector get involved?" Bellamy asks. Arkadia was a small town within the large state of Promeda, whose capital was Polis, its largest town. Along with Arkadia were other small towns like Mount Weather, Port Luna and the Lights District. Each had their own police precinct and investigation bureau but there was also a main overseeing bureau headed by Charles Pike.   
  
  
"I can't think of a reason but Bellamy, my removal from the case wasn't signed by Kane, it was signed by Pike."  
  
  
"Do I want to know how you know this?" Bellamy asks first and she shakes her head. "Why would Pike sign your removal?"  
  
  
"It doesn't make sense. You know that. Our precinct is more than capable of handling murders within Arkadia. We've even helped in Mount Weather and Polis. And it's more often than not been Miller, you and me. So why would I be removed, not by Kane, who is in charge, but by Pike- who is supposed to have nothing to do with this?" She asks.  
  
  
Bellamy sighs, pushing his fingers through his hair. "So you didn't bring any of your information, or Murphy, to us or Kane because you think there's something strange going on with the network behind the case?"  
  
  
"I'm sure there is," She says. "It doesn't make sense otherwise and you know it. This isn't completely to do with me being too close to Wells, there's something else happening here."  
  
  
"Even if I do believe you in all this- which doesn't mean I do- what's stopping me from taking you to Kane anyway?" Bellamy asks.  
  
  
"Please trust me, Bellamy. You _know_ it was unlike Kane to take me off a case like this. Tell me it doesn't rub you the wrong way. I am a capable officer, and I know how to keep my emotions in check. There is something going on here that is more than about Wells- why else would someone suddenly murder him? And if you tell Kane all of this, we're blowing any chance of finding out what's _actually_ happening here. _Please_ trust me."  
  
  
Bellamy stares at her for a few seconds before releasing a frustrated breath and nodding. "Fine. What were you and Murphy arguing about?"  
  
  
Clarke turns to Murphy and raises the watch still gripped in her hand. "Explain."  
  
  
"I lied to you before. I didn't get off at my flat, I went back to Jaha's. He invited me to have a drink with him after I helped his stupid nose and we're colleagues and we both had a long trip and I was getting a free drink so I thought why the hell not, right? And Jaha knew I was having a rough time with Emori and whatever, he wanted to see if I was okay or some shit like that. But while pouring a drink, he dropped a glass and it broke and when I went to pick up the shards, I cut myself. I took my watch off so blood didn't get on it and left it in the bathroom to wash my hands while Jaha threw the glass away. I'm guessing Jaha moved the watch to his room which is why it ended up amongst his belongings. I went back to his flat to get my watch as well- if the cops found it and the glass with my prints on it- they wouldn't let it go. Everything is conveniently pointing to me."  
  
  
"Why should we believe you? You could've just gone to his flat, stabbed him in the throat with a knife, cleaned up his blood with your handkerchief and washed your hands in his sink and left behind the two pieces of evidence," Bellamy says.  
  
  
"Because I'm not stupid, Blake," Murphy throws back. "If I did kill Jaha, which I didn't, I would be smarter than to leave my damn watch and blood-soaked handkerchief behind. And that wouldn't explain how my watch ended up in Jaha's box of pass-overs. If the cops found it by the sink, they would've bagged it and taken it in, not put it where his other things are. I wouldn't have left it in his room after killing him, I'm not stupid. And if I left it in the sink after killing him, how did it land up in the box? Cops only bag those things that they think are completely unnecessary, Jaha would have put my watch in a drawer or somewhere which the cops didn't think to look at it twice. If he were dead when I left, how would you explain the move to the drawer?"   
  
  
Bellamy and Clarke fall silent and eventually nod slightly.   
  
  
"Jaha was a good guy- I got along with him, believe it or not. Ask Roma- she worked with us, she knows I had nothing against him anymore. We weren't friends but I still respected him. I wouldn't hurt him."  
  
  
"What else do you remember from the time you got off the cab?" Clarke asks.   
  
  
"We got out of the taxi, walked up the stairs. Nobody passed us from what I can remember. On his floor, though, there was a kid heading back to her flat as well. She was about fourteen? Dark-blonde hair in braids, quiet and she and Jaha spoke for a few seconds before she left. I think she stays in 49, the flat next to Jaha's. He said that she and her mother moved in two months ago and that the kid's father had upped and left them. Then we went into the flat, had a few drinks."  
  
  
"Did he say anything about the project? Anything he was feeling uneasy about? I know Wells and if he spoke about something bothering you, like your relationship with Emori, he would've made you comfortable by first telling you something he's struggling with," Clarke says.  
  
  
"No, not really but- he mentioned something about a Cage Wallace who was being an absolute pain in the ass down in the Mount Weather Nat-Resources side but that he and Roma were making a break-through so it would hopefully all settle soon."  
  
  
"He didn't mention what kind of a breakthrough?" Bellamy asks. Murphy shakes his head.  
  
  
"We chatted for a bit and then I left after about an hour."  
  
  
"What time was that?" Clarke asks.  
  
  
"Ten thirty maybe?" He shrugs.   
  
  
"So our priority would be to talk to Roma about the project, Dax can be covered by the police, and we'd have to check on flat 49. And look into Cage Wallace," Clarke says.   
  
  
" _You_ shouldn't be doing anything, Clarke," Bellamy says.   
  
  
"Can we talk?" She asks, standing up. He huffs and nods, standing up. "Stay there." She instructs Murphy, who raises his handcuffed hands and rolls his eyes. She leads him to her room and closes the door behind them.  
  
  
"I know I could lose my job for this and heck, I probably will. But I can't sit and do nothing, Bellamy. And I can't take this to Kane, you know that. If there is something going on here, somebody needs to work on it behind the scenes and I can't risk you or Miller losing your jobs."  
  
  
"I could lose my job for not telling Kane about this."  
  
  
"Then we pretend we never had this conversation. If he finds out, I will take the fall- all of it, I promise you that," Clarke pleads. "But I can't let this go. And Murphy was willing to talk to me more than he was willing to talk to the police. Roma covered for me with you both even though she didn't have to- from the way she was behaving, she had something to hide."  
  
  
"I noticed she was twisting her ring- is that a nervous tick?" Bellamy asks.  
  
  
"Yeah, I think so. But if she was willing to cover for me when she knew I wasn't with the cops, maybe she's hiding something _from_ the cops. Which goes back to Pike being involved with this. Maybe Roma will talk to me if she knows I'm not going to go to Kane with what I know. But to do this, I need you, Bellamy." He stares at her and she stares back at him, equal parts determined and equal parts pleading. "I need you to trust me and I need you to have my back on this one. _Please."_  
  
  
"Does Miller know?"  
  
  
"He knows I'm working on it."  
  
  
Bellamy's silent for a second before releasing a breath and nodding. "Okay. But five days only. If you don't go further than you are now- I'll have to turn Murphy in, and discuss with Miller what to do about you."  
  
  
“Okay," Clarke nods firmly. She notices his eyes flicking to the contents spilt on her bed and his eyes seem to land on the photograph of their group.  
  
  
"Be careful, Clarke. If you're right and this is bigger than Wells and stretches to a bigger network, then someone knew you would be able to break this case and removed you for a reason. If they find out you're still investigating, you could be in danger too." He looks back at her. "Keep your firearm close and call if you need anything."  
  
  
She nods. "You too."  
  
  
***


	5. Monty Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for returning for this chapter! Enjoy! x

  
Over the next few days, Murphy returns to work in the day time and stays at Clarke's flat every other time. She has a feeling he's slightly nervous about staying out for too long. He's a survivor, but he knows that should the real murderer find out he's passing all this information to the cops, his life will be in danger too. Everything feels a little strange, even to Clarke, and she can't shake the feeling that something is _very_ wrong.   
  
  
She's sitting on her sofa, feet curled under her, going through all of Wells' emails over the past six months slowly and carefully, trying to pick up on anything that seems out of place. She only allows herself to get distracted once, and that's on an email he had sent her about how he remembered Jake teaching him about interviewing people and running a project, and how he learnt more from her dad than he did his. He then talks about how he remembers that Clarke became a cop because of her dad and how he misses spending time with the both of them. She fights back tears and quickly moves to the next email.   
  
  
Nothing else catches her eye and she shifts to go through her text messages. When those come up clean as well, she moves to her voice-mail and raises her eyebrows when she sees one message. She rarely uses her voice mail, Wells was the only one she knew who insisted they were useful. And its him who has left her the voice-mail. She's afraid to listen to his voice and looks at the time-stamp. 8:52pm on the night of his- his last night. But she knows it can't have anything significant in it because they began texting exactly five minutes after that and he mentioned to her that he dropped her a voice mail but it was only to say a hello. So while she makes a note of it, she doesn't listen to it. _She can't._  
  
  
Just as she's taking a few breaths to calm down, someone knocks on her door. She gets up to open it and sees Bellamy on the other side. She opens the door and steps aside and is pleasantly surprised when he passes her one of the two take-away cups in his hands.  
  
  
"Octavia had mentioned hot chocolate when you were having problems with your mum in High School."   
  
  
"Thank you," She smiles slightly at him and invites him to sit on the sofa with her.   
  
  
“How are you doing?" He asks, averting his eyes from her. This was uncharted territory for them. Something that isn't in their partnership manual. They prefer to squabble and throw insults at each other and while after high school and Jake's death, the bite in Bellamy's tone decreased and Clarke's annoyance at the boy almost completely disappeared, they still had their petty fights and glaring contests and they preferred it that way. It was a constant that both could look forward to while still working well together.  
  
  
"Yeah, was just going through all the emails and texts that Wells sent me over the past six months," She mumbled.  
  
  
"Find anything?" He asks, "And I didn't mean uh- _what_ you were doing- I meant how you were doing- um, otherwise."  
  
  
"Didn't find anything." She shakes her head and then looks at him, "I'm- trying not to think about it."  
  
  
"Have you been sleeping alright?" He asks, looking down at his take-away coffee.  
  
  
She shrugs. "As well as I can while working on my best friend's murder."   
  
  
"Fair enough." He looks uncomfortable and she changes the topic.  
  
  
"Did you get a chance to interview anyone else?"   
  
  
"We brought Dax in for questioning. He said he didn't like Jaha but he didn't murder him either. We pulled out his criminal records and his violent history and he said he wanted a lawyer."  
  
  
"Classic criminal necessities," Clarke says. "Think he's involved?"  
  
  
He shakes his head. "I don't know. He's a shady as hell character but I can't see how Wells would let him into his flat and how Dax would strike while Wells was sitting on the sofa, you know? Doesn't add up."  
  
  
Clarke nods in agreement. "How about flat 49?"  
  
  
"The kid's name is Charlotte Evans and she lives with her mother. The mother said she didn't hear anything from Wells' flat. She said Charlotte went to her room at around 9pm to read and work and they were asleep by 10:30. They said they didn't know what had happened until the next morning when cops were everywhere and Kane was telling them that they'd be called in later in the week."  
  
  
"I'm reluctant to think the kid was involved," Clarke says.  
  
  
"Me too, but we can't scratch her mother out," He says and watches her scribble down notes on post-its. He follows her to the dining room and raises his eyebrows, partly surprised and partly impressed, when she removes the dining table cover and starts sticking her notes down.  
  
  
"That doesn't add up," She says, a post-it reading '9pm- Charlotte and Jemma retreat to rooms' hovering above her timeline.  
  
  
"What do you mean?" Bellamy asks.  
  
  
"Murphy said that he left Wells' flat around an hour after they reached. He said he left at 10:30, right?" Bellamy nods. "But one hour before that is 9:30 and if Jemma said that Charlotte was in her room at 9, that's a lie because that's a full half-an-hour before they saw her in the corridor, even if you give or take fifteen or twenty minutes from Murphy's timeline."   
  
  
“Fuck," Bellamy says, running his hand through his hair and then swallowing a mouthful of coffee. "There's no way we can tell Kane she lied, though, because that would involve Murphy admitting he went to Wells' flat."  
  
  
Clarke nods and sits down at the table. He sits beside her.  
  
  
"We could ask Monty to look into them further," She suggests quietly.  
  
  
"Should we really be involving more people in this?" He asks, leaning back in his chair.  
  
  
"Do we have a choice? I don't want to involve anybody else but- I definitely don't have access to their files and you don't have a reason to look into them without permission either. Monty's good at what he does and not a lot of people know he's a computer genius. He can do it quietly."  
  
  
Bellamy finally agrees and she calls Monty on her personal phone.   
  
  
"Hey Clarke, how are you?"  
  
  
"I'm doing okay, Monty, thank you. I need a favour," She says, putting him on speaker. "I need you to help me look into two people for me." She hears him excusing himself from where he is and after a few seconds, he replies.  
  
  
"What kind of look into?"  
  
  
“The kind that requires you to slightly not-legally check files that I don't have access to," She says, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.  
  
  
"Clarke… Do the others know about this?"  
  
  
"Monty, it's okay," Bellamy speaks. "It's Bellamy."  
  
  
"Oh, hi Bellamy," Monty says, sounding a little surprised. Rightfully so. "Okay- who do you need and will this get me fired?"  
  
  
"Not if you don't mention it and be really careful." Clarke says. "If we're caught, I'm taking the fall for all of us."  
  
  
"Okay. Names?"  
  
  
"Charlotte and Jemma Evans. They were Wells' neighbours." They hear Monty typing away on a keyboard, muttering to give him a few seconds.   
  
  
"Right. Jemma Evans, 38- mother to Charlotte Evans, 13." Monty recites. "What do you want to know?"  
  
  
"Tell me about Jemma's ex-husband and when they moved to Arkadia, who she works for."  
  
  
"Alright- she works as a shop assistant down in the business district, not a fancy job and doesn't pay great. The husband works for Mount Weather Nat." Clarke and Bellamy's eyebrows rise significantly. "They used to all live there until two months ago when they got separated and the two came down to Arkadia."  
  
  
"The building that she stays in isn't cheap," Clarke says. "How's she affording it? Alimony? Rich relatives or parents?"  
  
  
"No living parents," Monty says and then hits a few keys and reads for a few seconds. "Not many relatives either, nor for her husband's side."  
  
  
"Financial records strong enough?"  
  
  
"Doesn't seem like it," He says. "But there are monthly transactions from an unnamed bank account."   
  
  
"Can you trace it?" Bellamy asks.  
  
  
"Not right now- I'd need time, and probably Raven's help," Monty says. "I do know who got her the house, though. Diana Sydney."  
  
  
"As in Ark Nat CEO Diana Sydney?" Clarke asks, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. One look at Bellamy and he's much the same.   
  
  
"That one. Creepy looking blonde woman," Monty says. "I'd love to keep helping but I really gotta go, you guys."  
  
  
"That's fine, Monty. Thank you so much," Clarke says.  
  
  
"I'll keep you updated if anything comes up and drop me a message if you want me to work with Raven."  
  
  
"Will do. Bye, Monty," Clarke says, hanging up.  
  
  
"Three Ark Nat connections on the same floor- between three consecutive flats? That's not a coincidence," Bellamy says, gesturing to the post-its. She passes him the blank ones and a pen and he scratches on what they found out and sticks them on the board.   
  
  
"No, it isn’t," Clarke agrees. "What did you find out about Cage Wallace?"  
  
  
"We aren't allowed to look into him according to Kane," Bellamy answers. "Sydney, maybe if we're lucky. But Wallace is too detached from Wells to look into. Kane said Wallace is the Mount Weather Nat CEO and he's too high up to look into without proper reasons to do so."  
  
  
"And without mentioning Murphy, we can't do that," Clarke says and he nods. "Maybe we can get Raven and Monty to check him out."  
  
  
"Maybe Octavia and Jasper to pull news records on him." Bellamy adds.  
  
  
"I thought you didn't want to involve others."  
  
  
"Desperate times. And I think you were right. This looks like it's more than just about Wells. But Clarke, you're going deeper into this case and you need to be careful."  
  
  
"I always am," She says.   
  
  
"I'm going to head off but let me know if you find something."   
  
  
"Should we be telling Miller we're working on this?"   
  
  
"Honestly I think he already knows," Bellamy answers, shouldering his bag. "He keeps looking at me with a mixed-serious and mixed-amused look which probably means he's figured it out."  
  
  
She smiles a bit at that. "Probably. Not a lot goes past him."   
  
  
***


	6. Octavia Blake & Raven Reyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm sorry for the long writing hiatus in all my works... Been struggling a bit in my personal life so I've just been trying to get back on my feet; But I'm making a conscious effort to get back into writing now so fingers crossed I get these stories moving again. Much love to you all, thank you for reading xx

  
Raven and Octavia come over for dinner the next day and when Clarke mentions their pending arrival to Murphy, he says he would rather go home for the evening and get himself something to eat than hide away in his assigned room and she agrees. When Raven and Octavia arrive later at six, he's gone and Clarke is a little bit glad. Not a lot is said until they're seated on the sofa with Chinese take-away and drinks.  
  
  
"How have you both been?" Clarke asks, settling into her armchair.  
  
  
Raven and Octavia share a small look and its decided wordlessly that nobody will bring up Wells unless Clarke wants to.  
  
  
"Pretty decent," Octavia answers first. "Lincoln is thinking of expanding the classes, bringing in more people and hiring some more trainers."  
  
  
"Who knew martial arts would become so popular in Arkadia?" Raven smiles.  
  
  
"It's more to do with O and Lincoln than it does to do with the martial arts. Parents adore them and they've gained a reputation with kids," Clarke says. "But that's a good idea, O. He should definitely go for it."  
  
  
"Yeah and- uh- I think I might ask Lincoln to marry me," she mumbles. Clarke and Raven's eyes go wide and and they share a glance before looking at Octavia, who is staring determinedly into her wine glass.  
  
  
"What? When?" Raven asks, grinning and leaning towards her.  
  
  
"I just- we've been together five years now and- maybe not tomorrow, but soon, you know? He's always been patient with me and given me all the time I need to prepare for more and I'm ready now and I love him," Octavia says, a fond smile growing on her face.  
  
  
Clarke's chest suddenly feels tight and her stomach hurts a little but she tries to ignore it. Octavia and Raven were both in committed relationships and could balance their work with their relationships flawlessly. She, on the other hand, had been alone for a while. And as much as she wish it didn't, it made her feel a little empty sometimes.  
  
  
"I say go for it," Clarke says, taking a sip of her cider. "You're also in a place where Bellamy actually likes Lincoln so make use of that before he changes his mind."  
  
  
"It's true. I mean- he's probably going to flip out that his baby sister wants to get married anyway," Raven says. "How's he doing by the way?"  
  
  
"Seems pretty stressed out," Octavia says.  
  
  
"Yeah, he's working Wells' case." Clarke says. "It's looking to be a tough one."  
  
  
"Press matters are insane as well," Octavia says, running a hand through her hair. "Jasper and I are having a mad time trying to keep the case out of the papers. People know, of course, and it won't be long before we'll need to release a proper issue."  
  
  
"Yeah, I imagine so," Clarke nods. "How's Jasper doing?"  
  
  
"He's alright- everyone's still pretty shaken over Wells so… yeah. But he's met a girl. Her name's Maya and she works for public relations at Mount Weather Nat. She's been handling the case from the company's side with us."  
  
  
Clarke falls silent. Why would they bring in a public relations contact from Mount Weather Nat rather than just use one from Ark Nat?  
  
  
"You okay, Clarke?"  
  
  
"Yeah, some things are a bit-" she's interrupted by a loud slam against the front door. She leaps to her feet and waves for Raven and Octavia to move to the kitchen while grabbing her gun from her work jacket. She tightens her grip on the gun as the person on the other side bangs on the door. She whips open the door and points the gun at the person on the other side. Murphy falls through the door, blood leaking from his nose and mouth and clutching at his ribs.  
  
  
  
"Murphy? What happened?!" Clarke gasps, passing the gun to Raven and ushering Octavia to help her drag Murphy through the door and shutting it behind them.  
  
  
"Clarke, what is Murphy doing here?" Raven asks, her eyes wide.  
  
  
"I'll explain later. One of you get me my med kit from the bathroom and the other call Bellamy and grab me an ice pack." Octavia nods and takes her phone out, heading to the kitchen.  
  
  
"I got attacked in my flat," Murphy wheezes out.  
  
  
"Were you followed?" Clarke asks, pressing her fingers against his ribs to assess damage.  
  
  
"No, I knocked the guy out and came back as fast as I could," he says, gritting his teeth. "Bastard broke my ribs, I think." Raven places the med kit beside Clarke and Octavia hands her the ice pack.  
  
  
"Should I get Miller too?" Octavia asks. "Bell's on his way."  
  
  
"No, not Miller," Clarke shakes her head and makes Murphy toss back painkillers. She presses the ice pack against Murphy's nose and the three girls make him shift and sit up against the side of the armchair. Five minutes later, there's a knock on the door and Octavia opens the door and steps aside to let Bellamy in. His eyebrows rise at the sight of Murphy, ice pack held to his nose and head tipped back while clutching his ribs.  
  
  
"What the hell happened?" He asks, shutting the door and standing in front of them.  
  
  
"I went home to my flat and was ordering dinner when there was a knock. I opened it and this massive man attacked me and we fought and he managed to mess me up pretty bad but I smashed a vase against his head and got out."  
  
  
"Have you seen him before?" Clarke asks.  
  
  
"I think I have?" He answers. "I just can't place his face."  
  
  
"Can we get a sketch of him?" Bellamy asks.  
  
  
"We could try but we can't go back to the precinct with this," Clarke says.  
  
  
"Lucky we have an artist in the room then, huh?" Octavia says, moving to the cabinet and taking out the sketchbook and pencils she knows are there.  
  
  
"I can try," Clarke nods and settles on the floor with the sketchbook on her lap. Raven sits on the armchair behind Murphy and Octavia and Bellamy sit on the floor near Clarke. Murphy begins to describe his attacker in detail and as a face grows clearer and clearer, the others lean closer and closer.  
  
  
"That's all I can remember," Murphy finally says and they all stare at the face.  
  
  
"I want to think he's familiar, but I can't place him either," Clarke says, his face present in some stored away memory at the back of her mind. "Any of you?" She turns to the others. They shake their heads.  
  
  
"I can run the picture through the police facial recognition software," Raven says. "I'll get Monty to run it through other systems as well."  
  
  
"And I can go back to work tomorrow and run it through media facial recognition, see if we can pick up a match," Octavia says.  
  
  
"Keep it on the down-low. Nobody can know we're looking into this, understand?" Bellamy says firmly. The two women nod and Raven asks if they get an explanation. Clarke and Bellamy share a look before disclosing the details.  
  
  
"Wow. I knew you were working the case, didn't know you were in so deep," Raven says, running her hand through her hair as they take in Clarke's dining table investigation board.  
  
  
"And nobody else can know either. The more people involved, the more dangerous it gets," Bellamy says. "You both should head home and get some rest, Lock your doors and be safe. We'll clear up here and decide what to do next."  
  
  
"Anything else we can do to help?" Octavia asks.  
  
  
Clarke shakes her head. "Sorry our night out didn't go to plan."  
  
  
"We can do something another time, Clarke. This is more important." Octavia wraps her best friend in a tight hug and Raven follows.  
  
  
"Give us a shout if you need anything and we'll get back to you on the facial recognition when we get something," Raven says. They hug Bellamy and head home together.  
  
  
"So what now?" Clarke asks, crossing her arms over her chest and releasing a breath.  
  
  
"I think this is reason enough to not go to Kane or any seniors about this covert operation you're running," Bellamy says. "I think we just stay home and rest up tonight and figure out a plan from tomorrow."  
  
  
"Do I stay here then?" Murphy asks.  
  
  
"Yes. I can treat the broken nose and luckily your ribs are only bruised-"  
  
  
"Oh yes, _luckily."_  
  
  
" _-_ So we don't need a hospital," Clarke finishes. "Don't go anywhere without making sure someone's with you and don't invite anybody here."  
  
  
"Fan-fucking-tastic." Murphy mutters. They help him stand up and offer to take him to his room when he insists he can manage- ' _I got from my home to here just fine, didn't I'-_ and waves them off.  
  
  
Once they're back in the living room, Clarke drops into her armchair and leans her head back.  
  
  
"One thing's for sure now- it's more than just about Wells,” she says. "I don't understand- why would Murphy get attacked?"  
  
  
"Maybe whoever is behind all this realised he was feeding information to the cops?" Bellamy suggests. "Or it was a warning to back off?"  
  
  
"We've been discreet, nobody knows we've been investigating."  
  
  
"Except the people you've spoken to."  
  
  
"So somebody we've interviewed is definitely involved. That's the only thing I can think of."  
  
  
"But how did they know Murphy was with you?"  
  
  
Clarke shrugs and rubs her eyes tiredly. "Maybe they know Murphy knows something about them and attacking him was unrelated to my investigation."  
  
  
“Possibly," Bellamy nods. "I'm going to take a picture of your sketch and check my files and keep an eye open as well- just in case." Clarke nods and gestures to the sheet of paper on the coffee table, weighed down by her cell phone. He shifts the phone off the sketch but in doing so, accidentally pushes it too far off the edge, sending it toppling to the floor, its weak battery cover falling out with the battery. Clarke is on her knees in front of it in an instant.  
  
  
"Watch what you're doing, Bellamy!" she cries, her hands scrambling to put the phone back together.  
  
  
"It was an accident!" He snaps back at her but suddenly notices her shaking hands and trembling lower lip and the way she's swallowing hard to keep the tears away. "I'm sorry, Clarke… I didn't- I didn't mean to…"  
  
  
She's watching the screen come to life with her breath held, tears pooling at her eyes in fear. He moves towards her and bends down next to her, places his arm on her back. "Clarke? I'm sorry, okay?"  
  
  
She nods jerkily before her fingers fly across the screen to access her voicemail. She finally releases her breath and emails the last voicemail she received to herself before wiping her eyes on her sleeve and standing unsteadily.  
  
  
Bellamy is left with his arm hovering in mid air where her back was and he stays there half-concerned and half-awkward before unfolding himself and standing up to snap a picture of the sketch. Clarke waits for him to finish before speaking.  
  
  
"It's pretty late, you should probably head home."  
  
  
“Yeah," Bellamy nods. "Take care of yourself and be safe. Don't take any risks."  
  
  
"You too."  
  
  
He takes one last look at her before nodding and leaving. Clarke watches him leave and is about to sit back down when her phone buzzes in her hand. She looks down and furrows her eyebrows at the unknown number. She opens the text message flashing on her screen and swallows hard at the message.  
  
  
"If you don't stop looking, you will be next."  
  
  
***


	7. Thelonius Jaha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this one! Please leave comments/kudos/bookmarks if you have a second to tell me what you think ;D Much love xx

Two mornings later, Clarke gets a call from Roma Vasquez, saying she'd like to speak with her, no cops involved. Clarke agrees and drives over within the next hour. She's invited inside Roma's apartment and only then does she realise how nervous the other woman looks.   
  
  
"Is everything alright, Ms Vasquez?" Clarke asks gently.  
  
  
"Call me Roma, please," she says. "And yes- it's- I know some things that might be useful to you, Miss Griffin."   
  
  
"Clarke."   
  
  
"Right, Clarke," Roma nods. "I didn't say anything earlier because I didn't know who you were working for or if you were with the precinct."  
  
  
"I am with them. Just not for this case."  
  
  
Roma nods. "I've been watching those coming and going from Wells' flat. I've seen a variety of people, just not you. That, and Wells used to talk about you so much- I feel like I can trust you."  
  
  
"You can, Roma, I promise. I only want to find who did this to Wells, and why."   
  
  
"I think that Wells' death was more than just attacking the Mayor's son," Roma says. "I think you've already reached that conclusion." Clarke nods. "Wells went to London but before he did, he gave me somebody's number, someone who works for Mount Weather Nat, someone he said was important."  
  
  
"Do you have a name?"  
  
  
"Maya Vie." Clarke freezes, her pen midway through writing the name on her notebook. Maya Vie. Maya from Mount Weather Nat. Wasn't that Jasper's new girlfriend?   
  
  
"Go on," she says, scratching down the name.  
  
  
"I don't know the full extent to what was going on, to be honest. Wells never told me. But he said that whatever he was searching for ran deep- that he couldn't get the cops involved because there were dirty cops he discovered related to the case. He said that Mount Weather Nat had a lot of dirty secrets, things that had been overlooked or brushed under the carpet because of how powerful those involved are.   
  
  
"He said that Maya had reached out to him, said that she knew what he was investigating and that she felt she could trust him when he came to meet her a few months ago. He referred Maya to me and said that I would talk to her instead, so that nobody could connect Wells to Maya and Maya to whatever was being hidden. But before we could talk, Wells got murdered and Maya messaged me saying she had nothing to say. She's scared. She knows something important- possibly something that can solve this case, but she won't speak. I couldn't take this to the cops because of Wells' warning and if they get to her before we do, we'll never find out what Mount Weather Nat is hiding."  
  
  
"Do you think Maya might be a suspect?" Clarke asks.   
  
  
Roma shakes her head. "Wells seemed to really trust her. Said she was a good person and that she definitely had an important piece of the puzzle he was trying to solve."  
  
  
"What else do you know? Do you think anything happened in London?"  
  
  
"Wells had mentioned going to make a trip to meet Vera Kane."   
  
  
"Vera Kane? Marcus Kane's sister?"  
  
  
"Yes, I believe so. He said she had information that tied into his case."  
  
  
Marcus hadn't mentioned this to the cops though. Bellamy hadn't said anything to her, anyway. If Vera did talk to Marcus about Wells before his death, he's covering for her or she hadn't told him about the meet. Was Marcus involved in some way as well?  
  
  
"Anything else?" Clarke asks.  
  
  
"I'm afraid not. But Clarke," she leans forward. "I'm scared too. Whatever Wells had found, or was close to finding, it was big. It was worth murdering him for. If they realised Wells was investigating it, we're not far behind." Clarke's mind flashes to Murphy's attack and the several text messages she had received from the anonymous number.   
  
  
Clarke nods. "Be careful. If you feel like something is wrong, call me. I will come to you and we will figure it out, okay? Thank you for trusting me with this."  
  
  
Roma nods. "I didn't know who else to talk to. If Wells died because he was close to finding something, I want that thing found."  
  
  
"You're a good friend, Roma," Clarke says. "I'm glad Wells had you." Roma nods, blinking away the tears pooling in her eyes.  
  
  
"Just get the son of a bitch who did this to him," she croaks, turning her face into her shoulder as the tears fall. Clarke reaches out to grasp her hand.   
  
  
"I will. I promise."  
  
  
***   
  
  
On her way home, Clarke is deep in thought and wonders if she can get Jasper to find out what Maya knows. She didn't think the girl was a suspect, but she had to find out what she knew. As for Vera Kane, she needed to speak to Bellamy about her. Her phone buzzes and she glances down to see a text message flashing on the screen. She grits her teeth and stares resolutely in front of her at the road, the words of the text running over and over in her mind.  
  
  
_Stop searching._  
  
  
Whoever it is was either following her, or happens to be living near the people she has been speaking to. Maybe even _is_ somebody she has been speaking to. She suddenly notices a black car in her rear view mirror and her heart begins to beat faster. She knows she has no definitive reason to panic but she tends to trust her gut. It had saved her on many occasions.   
  
  
So instead of turning right towards her apartment, she turns her car to the left and goes straight to the precinct. When she enters the office, flushed and swiping away the text message off her screen, she looks up to meet Bellamy's surprised eyes. It was her day off.  
  
  
"Thought I'd get some paperwork done," she says, sitting down and switching her computer on. Kane had assigned her other smaller cases, mostly paperwork but no fieldwork, and while she intended on completing them as soon as she could, she knew Bellamy didn't buy her enthusiasm in completing them on a day-off.   
  
  
An hour into work, she is still glancing nervously at her personal phone when something in her bag buzzes, making her jump. She reaches into her bag and withdraws her burner phone, the one that any case-related information Raven, Monty, Octavia or Bellamy found could be sent to without the precinct tracing it. She glances down to see a message from Monty.  
  
  
' _Thelonius signed off on Pike's order to remove you from the case'_  
  
  
Her eyebrows shoot up and she looks up quickly at Bellamy, who raises his eyebrows at her questioningly. It didn't make sense. Why would Thelonius sign off on a decision that would surely slow down his son's case? He had even told her that he wished she was on it. She stands up to go around her desk and hands Bellamy the phone. He furrows his eyebrows and looks up at her, opening his mouth to say something but another voice interrupts them.  
  
  
"Clarke, what are you doing here?" Clarke almost drops the phone Bellamy has just returned to her and spins around to see Thelonius himself standing behind them. She slips her hands into her jacket pocket, hiding the phone while doing so.  
  
  
"I work here, Thelonius. Just came in to clear up a few files," she replies, trying to keep her voice neutral. "What are you doing here?"  
  
  
"I came to meet Officer Kane about Wells’ case," he answers.  
  
  
Clarke now feels a heavy weight in her heart when looking at him. "Did he tell you much?"  
  
  
"Just that it's going slowly," Thelonius replies. "I don't mean to be rude but I need to be elsewhere soon so I'll see you around, Clarke. I hope you're taking care of yourself- it's what Wells would have wanted."  
  
  
Clarke can feel a lump in her throat and anger surfacing. She simply nods her head as a goodbye and the older man smiles and leaves.  
  
  
"Your flat at 4?" Bellamy asks in a low voice. She swallows hard and counts to five with her eyes closed before turning to him.  
  
  
"Yes." She wants to go home immediately but the thought that the black car would start following her again makes her sit back down opposite Bellamy and work for the next two hours until he stands up and stretches. He packs up his things and she does so too, pushing her files quickly into her drawers and locking them before he has a chance to leave without her, though she doubts he would. They walk to the car park together and he's about to suggest they’ll meet back at her flat when she stops him by speaking first.  
  
  
"Can I get a ride in your car?"  
  
  
He raises an eyebrow. "Didn't you drive to work?"  
  
  
"Um- yes, but I'm not- I'm not feeling too good and I don't think I should be driving." She didn't want to even admit to herself that she was a bit scared of the anonymous threats, let alone admit it to Bellamy.   
  
  
He looks confused and not really convinced, and glances quickly up and down her form, before nodding his head towards his car. She slips into the passenger seat and ignores his curious glances as she belts up. The ride to her flat is in silence, though more comfortable than she anticipated, and soon they're seated in her kitchen with her investigation board uncovered in front of them.   
  
  
"I don't know why Thelonius would sign me off his own son's case. He knows it would go much faster with me on it."  
  
  
"I guess this makes Kane's statement that his own hands were tied in the decision true, though," Bellamy says as Clarke sticks a note with Thelonius' name onto the board. "Does that mean Kane isn't involved in the network?"  
  
  
"I want to say no," Clarke says. "Either because the options of higher authorities we can approach with our findings are decreasing rapidly, or because I want to trust the man who gave me my job and trained us."  
  
  
"But you trusted Thelonius."  
  
  
"I- I don't know actually,” she says, leaning back in her chair and releasing a breath of air. "I guess I always had something against him because of all the shit rules he used to impose, and still does, as Mayor. And the way he wasn't ever really there for Wells, it just- something felt wrong, and the more I think about it- the more believable his sign-off gets but then again, this is his _son's murder._ I knew Thelonius wasn't the best person, but I didn't think he'd be bad enough to slow down his own son's case. Which begs the question of _why_?"  
  
  
"And it can't be a coincidence that he was in the precinct the same day Pike dropped in to visit."  
  
  
"Wait, what? Pike was there today?"  
  
  
“Yeah," Bellamy nods. "He came in this morning to talk to Marcus and then left before you came and after Jaha arrived so I guess their paths must have crossed in the precinct?"  
  
  
Clarke drops her head into her hands. Bellamy's adding a few more notes to the board when Clarke's burner phone rings. She answers and puts it on speaker.  
  
  
"Hey, Raven, you okay?"  
  
  
"Hey, Clarke. Monty's here too," Raven speaks up. "We got a few things for you."   
  
  
"Bellamy's here as well. Go on," Clarke says.  
  
  
"Right so we were thinking about Thelonius and why he'd sign you off Wells' case and we decided to look further back, to see if maybe he and Pike had worked on anything relevant to us before, or if there could be any connections," Raven starts and they can hear her hitting a few keys on her keyboard.  
  
  
"We got something from six years ago," Monty continues.   
  
  
_Six years ago._ Clarke's thoughts race in her head. _Only one important thing happened six years ago that she could remember._  
  
  
"My father was arrested and killed six years ago," she whispers. She was 20, just graduated from university. Bellamy's head snaps up to look at her and Raven and Monty are quiet for a few moments before Raven speaks again.  
  
  
"Yeah… Clarke… Thelonius, along with Pike, signed Jake's arrest." The news is met with silence and Clarke is having a hard time breathing all of a sudden.   
  
  
"They were friends," she says, swallowing hard. "Are you sure about what you're reading?"   
  
  
"Yes, Clarke," Monty says.   
  
  
"What exactly happened?" Bellamy asks.  
  
  
"Um- my dad- he was working for Ark Nat, like Wells. One day on the way to work, he was stopped by the cops- lead by Pike. His car was searched on suspicions of having class A drugs, and they were found in his car boot. Pike arrested him and there was a court trial- and it was- it all happened within a week. Jaha fought on my dad's side, said he was a good person- but it didn't stand as enough. Um- he was sent to prison and two days later- he- he was found hanging in his cell from his bedsheets."  
  
  
"Do you think he killed himself?" Bellamy asks softly.  
  
  
“No," Clarke says firmly. “Those drugs were planted, he didn’t know anything about them and he didn’t have anything to be guilty of. He didn't commit suicide, like they said he did, he was killed."  
  
  
"Didn't they launch an investigation into his death?" Bellamy asks. Before Clarke can speak, Monty does.  
  
  
"They did. We found the reports. It wasn't a suicide."  
  
  
Clarke leans closer to the phone, her heart racing. "Monty, that's impossible. They said that the body was sent to autopsy and it was a clear case of suicide- they even showed us the reports and while it wasn't enough to convince me, it was enough to convince others but- what reports did _you_ read?  
  
  
"There were two," Raven says. "One was released to the public, which is what you read, and the second we found in the hospital archives room. Monty had to physically go in and find it because it was digitally blacked out on the online data base. There's a whole section for autopsy and forensic records that have been backlogged or gone cold. The second report was in that section"  
  
  
"What did you find?"   
  
  
"The report shows clear evidence that your father's death wasn't suicide. It shows that there's no way he could have done it himself," Monty says.   
  
  
Clarke feels her chest and throat tighten. "I knew he would never."  
  
  
"Who was in charge of the autopsy? Only the surgeon in charge has permission to backlog and close files," Bellamy says.  
  
  
"It was someone called Jackson," Clarke says. "I remember he spoke to us."  
  
  
"Clarke-" Raven says, something strange in her voice. "Jackson wasn't the surgeon in charge, he was the assistant."  
  
  
"What?" Clarke grabs the phone off the counter. "Who- who was it?"  
  
  
"Clarke…" Monty says softly.  
  
  
"Who was it?" Clarke's voice breaks, but she already knows. Pike makes a decision. Thelonius signs it off. Autopsy is backlogged… the surgeon in charge…  
  
  
"Clarke, it was your mother."   
  
  
***


End file.
